Cracks
by Starlit Skyline
Summary: It's so hard to let go of the past, even when you don't remember it.


_**AN:** This is such a sad series. It's funny and amusing a lot of the time, but has an undercurrent of sadness. My muse was hard at work. But yeah, mostly it was just my typical angst plus a sad manga plus fanfiction which equals... you most likely crying your eyes out. I'm not being presumptuous or anything just... giving you a fair warning here._

It's so hard to let go of the past, even when you don't remember it.

 _ **Disclaimer/warnings:** Don't own. Some spoilers concerning the manga. As for the warnings - nothing much, mentions of swearing, drinking, abuse and panic-attacks... on second thought, I better not spoil it._

* * *

Cracks

Daikoku liked Yukine. He liked children in general, but this one was still special to him. The boy had an absurd amount of potential. He had sharp wits and a good heart, though he still possessed that childish naivety, that vain arrogance and anger – the remnant of whatever tortured past he'd suffered through.

Yukine had changed so much over the course of the last year, Daikoku thought with pride. He could still recall the angry teen from back then, the screams and the white light of the Purification Ceremony, the morning after. It made him tear up just thinking about it.

But Yukine was not Daigo. Daikoku knew this. Kofuku knew this. Yet, they'd taken the blond in as if he were their own – which, by extent, meant they'd also taken in _Yato_. Daikoku still wasn't sure how he felt about that arrangement.

Just that morning, for instance, the elder Shinki had caught the god trying to sneak out. That incident was still fresh in his mind.

„ _Where the hell do you think you're going?"_

 _Yato froze, one foot dangling in the air, and turned to look at Daikoku with a look that screamed_ guilty!

 _Daikoku frowned at him „Well?"_

„ _Uh, um, well, ya' see..."_

„ _You're going to spy on Hiyori again, aren't you?"_

„ _What? No! What gave you that I idea?"_

„ _So what is it then?"_

„ _Nothing."_

„ _People don't sneak off before dawn for nothing."_

 _Yato was quiet for a few seconds. He set his foot down and let his bangs hide his face. Seeing the god so serious always made the hairs on Daikoku's neck stand on edge. Yato was only ever like this when things got really grim._

„ _It's personal, okay?"_

 _...or when it involved his past._

 _The Yatogami raised his head, locking his luminescent azure eyes with Daikoku's own._

„ _Don't tell Yukine."_

 _Daikoku blinked. „Don't tell him what?"_

„ _That that's the reason I'm going. Tell him it was a job or something."_

Daikoku sighed. He hated lying to the kid, it brought up unwanted memories of little Daigo. No, better to not think about that.

„Where's that useless Master of mine?" Yukine would grumble every once in a while. Daikoku could sympathize. He and Yukine had two of the _worst_ masters on the planet – what with one being the son of the Heavens number one enemy and the other the Goddess of Poverty – though Daikoku knew that, deep down, neither he nor Yukine could ever live without Kofuku and Yato. The bumbling idiots needed them and it went both ways.

Still, it was obvious that Yato's habit of disregarding his _Shinki_ was killing Yukine. The boy wanted to prove to his master that he had changed, that he was worthy of having a place to belong. Yato, despite having similar issues, was to distracted to notice. It was partly Yukine's fault, Daikoku amended, because the kid didn't speak openly about his feelings with his master.

Yukine didn't want to be a burden anymore, another blight on Yato's already abused soul. The god had too much on his plate already.

Daikoku shook his head, the whole thing was way too complicated. He wished they would deal with the Sorcerer already, but the very thought made him anxious as well. Their enemy was powerful and what was more, enigmatic. How could you fight an enemy who you know virtually nothing about?

Daikoku sighed, it was too early in the morning to be thinking about such things.

„Oi, Daikoku, I think the heater on this thing is broken again." Yukine's voice called from the store, just as the blond poked his head in the room „You alright?"

„Yeah, yeah, get back to work. I'll be there in a minute." Daikoku waved him off, allowing a rare smile to spread across his face. That kid really was something. He and Yato were quite a team and Hiyori wasn't half-bad either. Hm, he hoped the girl would be able to come and visit soon. She'd been extremely busy after the Sorcerer's attack on her parents' hospital.

„Oh, Yuki- _chan_ , what does this do?!"

„Don't touch that!"

 _BANG!_

Oh dear Heavens, what happen _now_?

Running into the front, Daikoku saw the portable stove they'd set up on the counter on the floor – thankfully in one piece. Though he could have cared less what happened to the stupid machine as he caught sight of his two charges. Kofuku was pressed against Yukine, seemingly unharmed. Yukine, however, had curled into himself, holding his hand to his chest and releasing a low keen every once in a while.

Daikoku was beside them in an instant, gently prying the teen's hand from his chest. Yukine winced, but didn't resist.

The limb wasn't broken, mercifully, but Yukine's hand and part of his forearm were badly burn and bruised. Daikoku swore. „Kofuku, get the first aid kit."

The pink-haired goddess gave him a brief look before quickly running out of the room. The space was a little cramped behind the booth, but it was enough so that Daikoku could sit Yukine down on the floor comfortably, though the boy looked like he was about to protest.

„Easy now Yukine, let me see that hand of yours." he soothed. It was strange, he hadn't used such a fatherly tone in over three centuries. Yukine watched him, an odd look in his eyes.

It was in that moment that Kofuku entered with the first aid kit and Daikoku set to work not a moment later. He rubbed a special ointment into blistering skin and and put a cold towel on the bruises, to alleviate some of the pain. He also washed the injured limb, to avoid any infection – no matter how small. Then he wrapped Yukine's hand in a in a long, white bandage.

„There, Yukine- _kun_ ," he said „Feel better?"

No answer.

Daikoku blinked, peering down at his charge. Yukine didn't seem to notice. His eyes were glued to the bandage on his wrist, covering a good portion of his hand and traveling down his forearm like an alabaster snake. He was shaking.

„Yukine? Yukine, what's wrong?" Nothing. „Oi, say something!"

The boy didn't react, it didn't even look like he'd even heard Daikoku.

„Come on, brat!" he was yelling now, he knew, but his worry and confusion had overridden his common sense.

That was a big mistake.

Later, Daikoku would swear he'd heard the sound of ice breaking. An ominous _crack_ that would haunt him for many centuries to come, along with a childish voice calling _„Daddy! Daddy! Why'd it have to be this way? Daddy? Why did you do this to me, Daddy?"_

Yukine raised his head, wide sunset irises meeting obsidian.

There was no recognition in them.

.

It was that time of year again.

The season in which the sakura trees went into fool bloom and soft petals floated down the warm breeze. It was nostalgic.

It was sad.

Yato wasn't one to give into depression, so he tried to spend the day thinking of happier times – times spent with his _Shinki_ , Sakura. This was the one day of the year he dedicated to her, after all.

Today he'd planned to sneak out before dawn and spend a few hours just watching the sakura – like his own private festival, complete with a bottle of _sake_ – and then go back home somewhere around noon. Back to Kofuku and Daikoku and their warm, welcoming house. To Hiyori and her bossy awesomeness. To Yukine, his one and only.

Yes, one and only living _Shinki_.

He'd set Hi– _Nora_ loose scarcely three months ago. She was Yato's _Shinki_ no longer – nor was she his quasi-family. He'd said his goodbyes... yet, he still couldn't help but miss her, now and again. But she'd attacked Yukine – Hiyori, as well – and Yato could never forgive her for that.

Nor could he forgive her for Sakura's death.

He still couldn't believe it. On this day, so long ago–

His phone rang.

„ _Moshi moshi*_ , Yato the delivery god speaki–"

„Yato, come back here now!" Kofuku. She sounded paniced – scared, even. Kofuku never sounded scared. „Yato! Yato! Are you there?!"

„Yes! Kofuku, what happened?! What's wrong?!"

„Yukine! It's Yukine! Yato, get over here now before–"

Without a second thought, Yato teleported back to Kofuku's place. He landed in the living room, which was empty, but he could hear a commotion up front, where the shop was.

Heart beating frantically in his chest, Yato ran towards it.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him.

The back of the booth was a mess. The portable stove left overturned and abandoned on the floor, half-cooked food and ingredients strewn about. If Yato didn't know any better, he'd say a fight had taken place. But there was no enemy, only a quivering bundle in the corner and two spirits who stood, mystified, a few feet away.

Daikoku sat crouched on the floor, hands up in a placating gesture and face twisted into something utterly hurt and confused, but determined. Kofuku stood a little ways behind him, still holding the mobile she'd used, crooning „Sssh, _Yuki-chan,_ sssh, it's alright. Yato's going to be here any second now and he's gonna make it all better. I promise. Sssh, it's okay..."

And Yukine...

Gods, Yukine was curled up in the corner, sobbing hysterically. Yato had never seen anyone make themself so, so _small_. Yukine's frame shook and rocked back and forth, his shoulders hitting the walls with every motion and wide, petrified eyes staring straight at Daikoku.

He was crying.

Yukine was _crying_.

„What did you _do_?" Yato growled, his voice low and savage.

No one. _No one_ was allowed to do this to his _Shinki_ and get away with it.

All eyes turned to him. Kofuku's and Daikoku's were fully of relief, though Yato barely paid any attention to them. He had eyes only for Yukine, who was looking straight at him with an expression of pure terror.

Yato's mouth was suddenly very, very dry.

„Y-Yukine...?" he called, hesitant.

Bright eyes watched his every move from the corner. Yukine's breathing was erratic, almost on the verge of hyperventilating and Yato found himself thankful that the boy was already dead. Still, the sight before him tore his hearts into shreds. The sight of Yukine pressed against the wall, quivering in the corner like a beaten dog with tears running down his face and pale arms hugging his knees close to his chest – trying to make himself as small as possible...

It was then that Yato noticed the bandage. It was unraveled and stained red, revealing bruised skin under it's once white surface. Bandages... like that time, before he died...

 _No...had...had Yukine found out a god's greatest secret, did he... he would... no... no no no nonononono_ _ **NO**_ _!_

Yato tried not to panic, not to let his emotions run wild, but his heart was beating a thousand miles per second, breaking right then and there – destroyed by this broken child hiding in the corner.

„Yukine," he called, stumbling „Y-Yukine, c-can you h-hear me?"

As he drew closer, he could see Yukine's eyes growing even more wide. He pressed himself harder against the wall.

Yato swallowed „It's okay. It... isn't your fault."

Today. A over a millenia ago, today, he murdered his own _Shinki_.

 _Please, not again..._

„Y...Ya..." the voice, so small, so broken, made the great God of Calamity freeze „Ya...to?"

Yukine was watching him, those wide harthrow eyes red-rimmed and terrified, but shining with a sort of mad hope. „Y-Yato, is th...at yo-ou?" His words were broken, as if he'd forgotten how to use his own tongue properly, but it was undoubtedly Yukine. Yukine's voice. Yukine recognized him.

Yato felt like crying.

„Yeah," he said, faltering, trying to swallow back the bile rising in his throat „Yeah, it's me."

„You came..." Yukine's expression relaxed, if barely, though his eyes were still abnormally large and his lips quivered madly. He was whiter than slow. „You came... to save me...?"

„I'm here." whispered the god, so relieved it almost came out broken. He leaned forward, ready to ease the boy out of his hiding spot.

Yukine's eyes went impossibly wide. „T-That smell..."

Yato's heart stopped in his chest.

Gods, he smelled of _sake –_ _ **alcohol**._

Yukine's father had been an abusive drunk.

Faster than one could blink, Yato threw himself at the petite blond and dragged him back, into his arms and held him tightly. Yukine screamed. He trashed wildly, screeching and crying and begged and Yato just rocked back and forth as his heart broke in his chest.

„No! Let me go! Let me go! Please! Please! No more! No more!"

„Sssh, it's okay, ssh, I'm not letting you go Yukine, it's gonna be alright." Yato whispered soothingly, even as his murmurs were drowned out by Yukine's desperate ramblings. But Yato kept whispering, rubbing soothing circles into the boys back and holding him tight and whispering until he got through to him, until it was all over.

„No, please, don't hurt me, don't hurt me," Yukine begged, softer now, exhausted as he sagged in Yato's arms like broken doll „I promise I'll be good, honest..."

„You're good Yukine." Yato whispered back, caressing the other in comforting patterns „You're brilliant. You're my one and only, remember?"

„I'll do anything, anything, please, just stopped, please, I'm worthless, I'm worthless..."

„No, you're not. You're Yukine. Yu-ki-ne. My one and only. My _Shinki_. My _Sekki_. My Yukine."

„Yuki...ne?"

 _Sakura._

„Yes, you're Yukine. My Yukine."

 _Sakura, I'm so sorry._

„Ya...to?"

„Yeah."

„Ya-to? Wh-hy, di-dan't you le-ave?"

 _You said you'd always be by my side._

„I'm not going to let you suffer Yukine."

I _promise._

„Sa-ave... me?"

„Yeah, yeah, I will... I'll... I'll save you..."

 _Please, forgive me._

„Wh-hy you... cry-in'?"

„I'm just... really happy to have you back, Yukine."

* * *

 _ ***** The standard greeting when you answer the phone in Japan, at least in by my limited knowledge._

 _Yeah... I can understand if you want to mob me now. I guess I was in the mood when I wrote this. So, what do you think?_


End file.
